Tell me That I'm Strong, all of my Good Qualities
by kakkujapojat
Summary: It wasn't as if he was ignorant to everyone's opinion of him, but it was still rather irritating listening to it at every World Meeting, the others talking as though he wasn't even in the room.


**Title:** Tell me That I'm Strong, all of my Good Qualities

**Pairing:** US/UK

**Genre:** Fluff/no yaoi

**Rating:** PG-13-ish

**Warnings:** Swearing

**A/N: **It's been so long since I've written anything, it feels like; I really miss creating pictures and feelings through my words, it's such a nice feeling to be able to do it again since a really long time~ I apologise for my shoddy English, it seems to have deteriorated from lack of writing/reading.

Also, there's no reason for the title to be in Japanese, but... I recently read a lot of doujinshi and I came to love how the titles were romanised, they seemed to have such fluidity to them more than the English title -w- I know that made no sense, and now my English is sounding weird ;;; I actually don't like when a language other than English is involved with US or UK, but I was in a mood for it with this fic (I know I'll resent myself for it later).

* * *

俺は強いだ俺を言う、教えて俺のすべての良質の特徴

"**Tell me That I'm Strong, all of my Good Qualities"**

He could hear them. He could hear them perfectly well, regardless of how well he pretended not to. Their voices registered clearly and loudly from across the lobby, where America was sitting at one of the spare desks, doodling on one of the notepads that had been set there. His hand seemed to grip the pencil he held tighter with each word that resonated in his eardrum, the line on the paper becoming thicker and darker in his annoyance.

It wasn't as if he was ignorant to everyone's opinion of him, but it was still rather irritating listening to it at every World Meeting, the others talking as though he wasn't even in the room. He knew perfectly well how he stood with everyone else, so why did they constantly feel the need to repeat their insults every single time they assembled?

_"...abortion-hating ego-maniac..."_

_ "...he's thrown the whole world into turmoil; this whole economic situation started with him and his irrational decisions!..."_

_ "I don't see why they even let that hamburger-freak hold the meetings at all; it's not as if we get anything accomplished. He just rants and raves like he actually knows what he's talking about... Bastard."_

_ "Idiot."_

_ "...he's worse than France!"_

_ "At least America doesn't run around naked trying to rape people."_

_ "Shouldn't Russia have like, totally invaded him already or something?"_

_ "I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but I'm really at my limit here..."_

_ "He's even dimmer than Ita-chan!"_

_ "Ve?~"_

After a while, the voices mixed and mingled with each other so that it was near impossible to decipher individual speeches. The words still pounded in his head, repeating themselves over and over. They weren't new insults by any means, he'd probably heard every single one of them before. The other nations weren't even creative with the criticisms any-more.

Finally fed up with it all, America threw down the pencil on the table and stood up angrily, nearly knocking over the chair he'd been sitting in, and storming out of the lobby into the empty corridor. He stomped down the hall and flung open the men's lavatory, slamming the door behind him as he went in.

_I try my best... everyone makes mistakes, I can't be perfect. Why can't they see that I'm at least attempting something? They've all messed up before, why is it just me who always gets harped on for it?

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_

England hadn't been paying much attention to America, but raised his head when he heard the door slam. When he saw the desk America had been using was empty, he figured it had to have been Alfred who'd stormed out of the lobby in such anger. Arthur had been sitting on one of the sofas, waiting for a headache to go away, and hadn't been paying much attention to the conversations circulating in the room. He wondered if Alfred had heard something to make him upset.

Not like he cared, or anything. He just didn't feel like watching America sulk all day, that was all. He would go and see what was wrong; it was probably something extremely trivial, as Alfred got upset over the smallest things. He gave a deep sigh as he forced himself off of the sofa, furthermore exhibiting his reluctance to deal with his former colony.

The corridor was vacant, with no sign of Alfred or anyone else. Knowing America, he'd probably stomped off to his car and went out for McDonald's or something. England decided to go outside and see if the other nation was maybe sulking on the stairway or something.

He walked down the corridor towards the door, but as he passed by the lavatories, a sound coming from inside them stopped him in his tracks. It sounded like someone crying. Maybe... no, it couldn't be. What was he thinking?

Nonetheless, he pushed open the door to the lavatory and stepped inside. The sound was evident now, someone was definitely crying in one of the stalls. England slowly made his way over the the row of cubicals, looking to see which one was closed. When he came upon it, he stood on the outside for a moment, listening to the occupant's sniffling.

"A-America...?"

Almost at once the sniffling stopped, and there was no movement from inside the stall. England hesitated, and then tapped twice on the door. "America, are you in there?"

No movement for a minute, and then the stall door was abruptly jerked open and Alfred stalked out, pushing past England and walking over to the sink. "What the hell do you want, eyebrows?" he asked irritably, his voice thick from obvious crying.

England was surprised at first, and then felt his anger and irritation surface. "What's the matter with you, why the hell are you crying, you git?" he demanded.

"-'m n't cr'in'." Alfred roughly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, his back still turned away from Arthur.

"Why'd you storm out all of a sudden? The loud slamming of that door hurt my ears, you know!"

"Just leave me alone! Why the hell did you come in here anyway?" America cried, whirling around to glare at England. His eyes were visibly red, and tear stains streaked his flushed face. "If you're going to laugh at me, then just get it over with!"

Arthur was completely taken aback. "Laugh at you – for what?"

"Because you're just like all the others! I know you hate me too, so just leave already!"

"Just like – America, what the bloody hell are you on about?"

Alfred sunk to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest and staring down at the floor. "They all laugh at me. I hear them talking every time we hold a meeting. They all think I'm a big joke, that I can't do anything, that I'm a complete idiot that just messes everything up and causes problems for everyone else!"

"Er, well...That's not, I mean-" England gave a sympathetic sort of look. It wasn't as if he could deny any of those things were somewhat true. He sat down in front of America (trying not to think about the fact that they were sitting on a bathroom floor) and sighed. "I thought you were used to the others' comments. You usually brush it off."

"What else am I supposed to do? Any time I try and argue, everyone just laughs and insults me more. No one takes me seriously." He rested his chin on his knees, a morose expression on his face. "I usually ignore them, but it's gets rather depressing hearing the same insults day after day. I already know the world hates me, I don't need them repeatedly confirming it."

"You think the world hates you?"

Alfred shook his head. "I _know_ the world hates me. I guess I don't blame them. Look at everything I've screwed up lately. It's no wonder everyone thinks I'm a joke."

England searched for something comforting to say, but came up blank. "Er, well, they don't hate you..."

"...I don't try to make all these mistakes, you know... I don't." America's voice sounded like he might start crying again.

Arthur sighed, scooting over beside Alfred. "The world doesn't hate you. They know that if you fall, they all go down with you."

"B-but gives them a perfectly good reason to hate me!" Alfred replied. "I'm the reason their economies and everything are shit anyway..."

"That wasn't just your fault. They just want someone to blame. It's no different than what happened during the Great Depression. It was like a domino-effect, that can't be blamed on just one country. It was as much my fault, as France's, Germany's, or any other country at that time. They just feel like it's easiest to point blame towards you, so that's what they do."

"B-but I _am_ an idiot, and I have an ego and try to fix problems in absurd ways, a-and-"

"You're no more of an idiot than Italy. But everyone still loves him simply because he's cute," England said dryly. "I'll admit, you can be thick. And you make mistakes. But everyone has, just look at history. The Spanish Inquisition, all the religious wars, the whole Nazi-Germany thing, the Nanjing Massacre... Just look at what other countries have done. Everyone would just rather point out someone else's mistakes than look at what they themselves have done."

Alfred was silent, as though pondering this new bit of information.

"You're cheerful, optimistic. When something goes wrong you don't sit and sulk about it. And even if your solutions to problems are sometimes –er, mostly always- absurd, you at least try and fix them. You can be stubborn and thick-headed, but you're determined. You don't give up, and you fight for what you believe in. You're a strong country. Those are admirable qualities, you should be proud of yourself."

America looked over at him and blinked, as though not believing what he was hearing. "Wait a minute... a-are you _complimenting me?_"

England blushed, obviously embarrassed. "Don't let it go to your head, you git! I'm just trying to cheer you up; it'll be a pain in the arse if you start moping around because of some stupid insults."

Alfred grinned. "Heh, you're right England, thanks! That does cheer me up! Though, it's not as if I didn't know those things already, I was just in a bad mood! But it's even better to hear compliments from other people, haha!~"

"You're such a bloody git, Alfred."

America stood up, offering England his hand to pull him up from the floor. Arthur took it with a bit of hesitation, standing up and brushing himself off.

Alfred didn't let go of his hand. He leaned forward a bit, resting a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Really, England, thanks." He smiled at the other nation, before letting go of his hand and walking out the lavatory door.

Arthur stood staring at the doorway for a few moments, before finally smiling himself.

_...I do envy your blind optimism sometimes.

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_

**A/N:**

No matter what happens to America, he remains cheerful and positive. I think that's one thing I like about him. He comes off as dense and idiotic, but I think his optimism is a good thing about him. He doesn't sulk when things are going badly, and even if his solutions to problems are a bit outlandish, he tries. America means well, he just comes off the wrong way. To those who say they hate America (I speak of the country, not the character), consider this fanfiction for you.


End file.
